140 
JOURNAL, R.A.S. (CEYLON). [VOL. XVIII. 
Dramatic productions, referred to by Mr. Arthur Silva in his 
interesting Paper, are of course of very recent date, the earliest being 
not much older than the middle of the last century. There is, however, 
a form of dramatic representation which seems to have been earlier 
introduced and more popular with the masses than the nadagams. I 
refer to the farcical representations known as kolan netima (o^iSsf^^ 
255iS®). This form of amusement used to be very common in the 
villages, and even to-day it flourishes in some parts of the Island, notably 
in the Bentota district. 
The whole representation is of the crudest form. There is no theatre 
hall, nor are scenes of any kind in requisition. A roofless cadjan 
enclosure does duty for the stage, and as well supplies seating accommo- 
dation for the audience. The performers are, of course, all males. 
They wear masks and dresses suited to the characters they represent. 
The performance lasts the whole night, and — as the proverb has it — 
the best part of the show comes off towards morning. At all events, the 
enthusiasm and delight of the rustic audience never flag for a moment. 
In origin, apparently Tamil, the holam seems to have developed on 
native lines. Except the royal personages, introduced early in the 
evening, all the characters belong to Sinhalese village life. There is no 
central plot ; episode succeeds episode with little or no connection with 
one another. Each character is introduced by a string of verses sung 
by the " stage manager " and his assistants. These verses, uncouth and 
tuneless as they are, discover an unexpected vein of humour, and 
generally hit off the characters they introduce with a great deal of 
satirical truth. The royal messenger, lame in one leg but consequential 
withal ; the old tom-tom beater, with the inevitable strip of Turkey 
cloth wrapped round his waist, and much fond of arrack ; his wife, 
young and comely, but not over-attached to her gray-haired spouse; the 
pompous Mudaliyar, strutting up and down in all his glory and power; 
the ubiquitous Tamby and his shy partner — all these and many others 
play their parts on the rustic stage ; and it needs no strong effort of 
the imagination to realize in these rude representations a faithful 
portrayal of Siiiihalese village life. Dialogues of an impromptu nature 
afford ample scope for local hits and allusions, which, often not very 
delicate, supply no end of merriment to the audience. 
In conclusion, I may say that some of the stories represented are 
borrowed from Buddhist sources, and are meant to instruct as well as 
to amuse the spectators. 
